


In My Arms

by ggfoye



Series: Feysand One-Shots (Fluff, Smut, Angst) [2]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Book 2: A Court of Mist and Fury, Cabin, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Inner Circle - Freeform, One Shot, Pre Mating Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:48:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26605492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ggfoye/pseuds/ggfoye
Summary: Recently, everyone was on edge. But my mate... I could feel her falling apart. Slipping away in front of me. And I had to find a way to fix it.One-Shot. Set during ACOMAF.I do not own any of the characters, Sarah J. Maas does.
Relationships: Feyre Archeron & Rhysand, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand
Series: Feysand One-Shots (Fluff, Smut, Angst) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1942270
Comments: 6
Kudos: 102





	In My Arms

A war was coming, and we were running out of time.

So I could understand the confused looks on my family's faces when I told them we'd be taking the weekend off.

Tomorrow wasn't promised. There was a big chance none of us would be living long enough to have another opportunity like this. And Feyre... well, Feyre needed this.

My mate was on the verge of breaking again, and I felt it in my bones. She trained and worked hard every day, giving it everything she had, but there wasn't much that could get her out of bed aside from that. Which would be something if she was in fact sleeping.

She had nightmares every night. Every damn night. Horrifying, vivid nightmares that got her rushing to the toilet as soon as she was awoken by her own screams. The dark circles under her eyes were a permanent part of her looks. She didn't smile, or laugh, or take any interest in anything not war-related—she didn't have the energy to.

I couldn't blame her. Most of the time, I felt the same.

But yesterday had been the last straw.

Feyre hadn't slept in days—weeks, I could bet. And while we were training with Cassian and Azriel, she could barely stand on her own, though she was doing a really good job at pretending she could. I gave her the day off and told her to go home and rest. She insisted on staying, stubborn as she is, and I was one more obstinate reply away from pulling the High Lord tone. And when I did, I immediately regretted it.

Feyre's expression crumbled so fast I didn't have time to process what was happening, I just rushed to her at the speed of light and flared my wings around her, cocooning us as if to hide her away from any menace. She wasn't startled or did so much as shudder or flinch at my rampant brutal approach, as I feared she would.

I could sense Cassian and Azriel's puzzled looks on us, but I didn't care—especially because they could very well hear her, the whole Velaris probably could.

Feyre was crying—hysterically. A gush of staggering guilt washed over me as I realized I'd pushed her too far. Something twisted painfully in my chest at the sight. I didn't know what was wrong, I couldn't understand what had happened, it had all been too fast. But my mind, my body, my _soul_ , they were all screaming—fix it, fix it, fix it.

"I can't, Rhys. Please, don't make me. I can't go to sleep, I can't," she whimpered.

My mate was falling apart before me, and I was at a loss of what to do.

"If I sleep, I'll see _her_ ," she groaned, and I shuddered slightly, "Just give me something to focus on so I don't fall asleep."

I cupped her face in my hands—that beautiful, agonized, exhausted face—and wiped her tears, shushing her soothingly. She was sobbing and her lower lip trembled, and I couldn't help but reach out to her. If she rejected my touch, then so be it, I would deal with my pain later. But I had to do _something_.

She didn't retract when I pulled her neck to my chest and embraced her with my other arm. In fact, she wrapped her arms around me and dove her face against me, soaking my shirt. We stayed like that for as long as it took for her to calm down.

So later I decided. To hell with Hybern, and human queens, and ex-fiancés, and bloody-minded High Lords. At least for the weekend. Feyre needed this—we all did. And I wasn't one to deny her anything, much less something she so desperately needed.

And so we ended up on the mountain cabin. Winter was still on the way but there was already a thick layer of snow covering the grounds and the roof.

I loved that place, and I knew Feyre would too. It smelled like home and family and memories.

I already loved my cousin, but since Feyre had come into our lives, I began loving her even more. She took care of my mate as her own, and I was immensely grateful for that.

Mor showed her her bedroom and quickly convinced her to go to the sauna with her. Feyre hadn't looked too excited, but she, too, had difficulty saying no to Mor.

Cassian and I broke into the wine cellar and picked the best bottles. We didn't have to say it, but we both knew—we all did—that that could be our last time. So we spared no time or resources.

Amren was already sipping on her own drink and Az decided to accompany us. By the time Feyre and Mor came back, we were already a bit high. We were all sat down on the floor around the coffee table and Feyre walked towards me, picking the spot right by my side, even though there were many other empty spaces. I held back a grin, but Mor noticed and smiled, sitting right across from us.

Amren began explaining this new drinking game with cards, but my drunken mind was having trouble keeping up. I got the idea, but glancing at Feyre I could see she'd been in another planet during the explanation.

Needless to say, we were both smashed in no time. Even though I had won quite a few rounds, every time she’d lose I’d drink with her in mocking solidarity. She appreciated it regardless.

A huge weight was lifted off my shoulders watching her laugh and joke. She and Cassian had been playfully bickering all night, and we were all placing bets on whether or not he'd be leaving tomorrow with a few burns. Az decided to abstain, but Mor and Amren bet on Feyre. I, on the other hand, said she was too clever to be so merciful.

We played truth or dare, and I ended up having to entertain the many dares my friends had the tendency of requiring to be carried out in the complete dark. So I conjured my powers time and time again only to see them tearing my house apart. Feyre thought that was hilarious, so I didn't care.

At some point during the evening, when we were all too wasted to keep playing or breaking stuff, we started talking about the subjects that would usually come up when we gathered like this. Past war gossips, morbid story tellings, routinely teasing—anything but our current situation.

I was telling this particular story about Drakon and Myriam when I felt a light weight settling on my shoulder. The whole room went dead silent as I turned my head to find Feyre, breathing softly with her eyes closed.

She was asleep—or almost.

She was leaning on me. And sleeping. I was filled with such overwhelming relief that I thought I could cry. My breathing became heavy. I didn't care that everyone was looking, I kept staring at her anyway.

She looked so peaceful. For the first time in so long. But then—

"Feyreeee," a drunk Cassian slurred.

"Shut up!", Mor yelled whispering at the same time that a guttural growl came out from deep within my throat. Cassian soon noticed my gelid piercing eyes on him and shut up. Mine weren't the only ones.

"If you wake her up, boy, I will shred you to pieces right here and right now. Azriel will have to sweep you off the floor," Amren snarled.

Carefully, I looked to the side again, but she hadn't moved. Didn't seem to have heard any of the commotion.

"I don't know if I should... Maybe...", I murmured.

"Just let her sleep there for a while, we'll keep it quiet. If you move her now she might wake up," Amren reasoned.

I liked that idea. I had wanted to put her to bed because it'd be cozier, but she already seemed very loose and at ease. And my selfish side also enjoyed the fact that she felt comfortable enough to rest on me, and I didn't want to lose that willing touch.

So we continued the evening, drinking and talking and joking. Feyre barely moved. I was still there—with my friends and family, being part of the conversations and the teasing. But I felt like my mind was somewhere else, somewhere blissful and serene. My body was also very aware of the female laying against it, electrifying every point of contact between us. I glanced at her now and then, unable to stop myself.

I'd made the right call bringing them here.

My friends were happy and light-hearted. There was not one single shade of darkness in their eyes.

And Feyre, for once, looked her age. Young and carefree and safe. No earth-shattering weight on her shoulders. No trauma baggage to carry. Nothing but complete and utter peace. Just a girl, tired from a long day, resting on a friend's shoulder.

That's what I told myself anyway. I couldn't allow myself to hope that that meant anything other than that she trusted me.

If it was a friend she wanted, if it was a friend she needed, then I'd take it. I'd be it. Even if it killed me. From her, I'd take anything. And I'd be the best damn friend she could ever have.

And so I let that thought sink into me and I accepted it.

I'd protect her. I'd support her. I'd be there for her. I would never leave her side, for as long as she wanted me around. And she could have me in any way that she wished.

I did not give in to groundless hopes.

Until... My family was in a deep and heated conversation about Rita's or someone named Rita or something I couldn't quite pay attention to. I only nodded pretending to be present. Because my mind... my mind was in my mate, who had suddenly just leaned onto me further and... _breathed me in._

I tried to convince myself it was nothing, or only my imagination. But I saw it. The moment her head tilted slightly to the side and she inhaled deeply in my chest, close to my neck, and... smiled. Almost imperceptibly. It was only a light upturn of her lips, but it was there.

And when I looked across the table, I saw that Mor was smiling at me, and I knew it hadn't been a glamour designed by my brain. She'd seen it too.

Something deep inside me seemed to start to heal.

Later on, her head started getting heavier on my shoulder, and I knew she was already in a deep state of unconsciousness. I had to keep steady and almost unmoving so as to not bother her sleep, but I didn't mind the slightest bit. I pressed her head further against me by opening my arm and holding it, and told myself I was only doing it so I wouldn't risk her toppling down.

However, I decided to slowly lean my back against the couch seat so she could settle in better and be more comfortable. Realizing my arms which were keeping her steady were now pointless, I let her go. I didn't want to force myself on her in any way she wasn't aware of. But as soon as my arm left her back, she used the space between us to scooch in closer and lean completely against my chest.

I was holding her.

Her forehead now rested on my neck, the only spot where our skins touched, and the warmth of it threatened to undo me. She was breathing heavily, and so was I.

I had never loved anything so much. I had never loved anything more than that little creature curled up against me. It terrified me to no end.

I was dragged out of that moment of epiphany when I heard my name.

"...I think he's about to cry," Cassian joked.

They all laughed, but Mor cut in right after, baiting him, "Like you did when Nesta scoffed at you?"

"That is not true and you know it!", he retorted.

Mor ignored him. She looked me in the eye like she was just as blissful as I was.

"She's sleeping," I finally said, my voice filled with emotion.

"Yes," she sighed, relieved too. Everyone at the table seemed to breathe better at that simple fact. Even Cassian appeared to calm his drunken ass down observing her.

As if she'd sensed all those watchful eyes on her, she groaned quietly, and I stiffened. But she simply took a deep breath and let out a relaxed sound. I took the liberty of stroking her arms lightly and in a calming manner and she went back to complete stillness.

The table sighed relieved.

We only stayed there for a while more, until one by one started to head to bed. First it was Mor, dragging a very unbalanced Cassian. Then Az. Then it was just Amren, who turned on her feet as she walked away to look at me.

"You take care of her, boy."

A statement and a request. I nodded solemnly.

When it was just her and me left, I let myself be drowned in that moment for a second. I allowed myself to memorize every detail of it. The sudden silence, still echoing with the ghost of my friends’ joyful voices. The moonlight shining through the window. And my mate, sleeping peacefully in my arms. I breathed in her hair, listened to her slow and calm heartbeat and pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

As I carried her to bed, I wished the stars for a tranquil night. If only for a last time. I conjured a soothing darkness to embrace her, and as I let her down on the mattress, I had to tenderly and cautiously undo her tight grip on my shirt.

She let go unwillingly, as if she'd also wished for time to stop while we held each other.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are welcomed :)
> 
> i’m binge-writing one-shots, so if you have any requests on feysand and rowaelin let me know :)


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